


A Fine Substitute

by Beelzebumons



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Clothed Sex, Dry Humping, Grinding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:33:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22577872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beelzebumons/pseuds/Beelzebumons
Summary: “I hope you’re talking about what I’m thinking,” Caspar answers, and he settles his hands on Linhardt’s hips. “It’s been a week, I’m all fired up…”“Exactly, yes,” Linhardt whispers, leaning into Caspar’s touch. “But I fear that doing anything here would result in us making a terrible mess, and I can tell that the innkeeper is too old and tired to deal with that.”“Huh.” Caspar can’t hide his disappointed pout. “Didn’t think something like this would stop you…”“It won’t,” Linhardt gently interrupts him, then hooks his arms around Caspar’s neck to pull him down. With Caspar above him once again, Linhardt grows emboldened, and his legs spread to accommodate him. “I may have an idea.”
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring
Comments: 12
Kudos: 216





	A Fine Substitute

**Author's Note:**

> Hello yall !!! I've been working on this for a few weeks lmao :))) this is just some dry humping porn which ive wanted to write for a while,,, hope you enjoy it!!! i really like how it turned out tbh
> 
> Casphardt good

“Time to wake up, Linhardt!”

Caspar usually isn’t delicate when it comes to waking him up, but at this point in their relationship, Linhardt supposes he’s gotten used to it. His head sways slightly as he rises from his light nap, and he’s rather surprised to see that their cart has come to a halt. 

As he shields his eyes from the sun, Linhardt can’t help but yawn. “Are we in House Goneril territory already?” 

“Yeah!” Caspar starts unloading their cart, taking only their most important belongings with him as Linhardt looks around. He didn’t see the time pass at all; it feels like it’s only been a few minutes since they left House Ordelia territory. In the distance, Linhardt can already see the tall mountains of Fódlan’s throat, their peaks hidden behind thick clouds.

The only border remaining to cross before they reach Almyra. 

“We should probably stay here a day or two to get some rest before crossing the border,” Linhardt says as he gets off the cart, patting the horse’s neck. “Oh, we also need to get a new tent, perhaps a sturdier one. I’m not sure how the wind is going to treat us over there.” 

“Ugh, you’ve already slept on our way here, do you  _ really  _ need more rest?” Caspar groans with a roll of his shoulders. “Wait, nevermind. I already know the answer.” 

“You do? Thank goodness. It certainly saves me the effort of explaining,” Linhardt answers with a soft laugh, then looks up at the inn they’re standing in front of. 

“And  _ thank goodness _ we can sleep in an actual bed tonight. I thought we would have to set up camp again,” Linhardt sighs, to which Caspar pats him on the back. 

“Let’s go inside!” He exclaims. “I know that’s all you’ve been waiting for!”

Linhardt has to wonder if Caspar went through the trouble of taking their cart to one of the towns so they could benefit from the comfort of a bed, something they don’t get to experience too often while they’re traveling around Fódlan. A tent and a sleeping bag is usually all they have, and Linhardt doesn’t believe it’ll be any different in Almyra. 

Oh well. He supposes he’ll enjoy the inn while he can. It’s a rather small one, with only five rooms left. Caspar and Linhardt have long lost the habit of taking separate rooms ever since they’ve been together, and Linhardt  _ certainly  _ doesn’t fail to notice the slightly worried look on the innkeeper’s face .

After taking their horses to the nearest stable and sharing a nice meal, the two move up to their room to start unpacking. When Linhardt notices how dark it’s gotten, he lights up the lantern by the entrance, removes his coat, then immediately lies down on the bed.

It’s not as comfortable as the one he had back at the monastery, but it’s still much better than the sleeping bag. He closes his eyes for a moment, already imagining the amazing sleep he’ll have here.

He hears something hitting the mattress, then the sheets ruffling, until his personal space is suddenly invaded. He’s hardly surprised to see Caspar on top of him when he opens his eyes, caging Linhardt between his arms. Not that Linhardt would ever want to escape. 

“Hello, Caspar,” Linhardt utters, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he realizes that Caspar isn’t acting like this without a reason. 

“You’re not going to fall asleep  _ now _ , are you?” Caspar asks with a hint of disappointment on his features. Linhardt notices that he’s taken off his armor and poncho already, leaving only his black turtleneck on. 

“To be honest, with how much I’ve slept today, I believe it’ll take some time before I can fall asleep again for the night,” Linhardt murmurs as he stretches his arms over his head. “There are… some other things I’d like to do before that.”

After the words leave him, he raises himself slightly for his lips to meet Caspar’s own, and the surprised breath caught between them is quickly quieted down to make way for a pleased hum. 

Their fingers tangle together before they part, and while Caspar’s cheeks are already flushed, he shows a radiant smile that Linhardt allows his gaze to linger upon for a while . “I hope you’re talking about what I’m thinking,” Caspar answers, and he settles his hands on Linhardt’s hips. “It’s been a week, I’m all fired up…”

Linhardt feels himself shivering in anticipation. The two haven’t done anything remotely sexual in the past week, indeed; only because Caspar was recovering from some minor injuries, which have completely disappeared thanks to Linhardt’s healing magic at this point. 

“Exactly, yes,” Linhardt whispers, leaning into Caspar’s touch. “But I fear that doing anything here would result in us making a terrible mess, and I can tell that the innkeeper is too old and tired to deal with that.”

“Huh.” Caspar can’t hide his disappointed pout. “Didn’t think something like this would stop you…”

“It won’t,” Linhardt gently interrupts him, then hooks his arms around Caspar’s neck to pull him down. With Caspar above him once again, Linhardt grows emboldened, and his legs spread to accommodate him. “I may have an idea.” 

“Wha—”

Before Caspar can ask about it, Linhardt draws him in for another kiss, shutting him up completely. Caspar ends up muffling an incoherent sound against Linhardt’s lips, something he forgets completely the moment they’re locked together. 

The sheets ruffle under them as Caspar adjusts his position, crawling further between Linhardt’s legs. Linhardt parts them further for him, unable to resist the urge to curl one of his legs over Caspar’s hip to pull him ever closer. Their heartbeats grow frantic, hammering against their chests as the two tug at each other, as if this closeness simply weren’t enough. Linhardt feels it now—the pent up eagerness, the desire he’s smothered down for the past week, all welling up within him. It shoots through him almost painfully, causes him to breathe out an impatient sigh as he angles his head differently. 

And Caspar does exactly what Linhardt expected; he feels his tongue press past his lips to meet Linhardt's own, deepening the kiss. The way Caspar pins him down onto the bed is nearly fierce, and a deep groan resonates in his chest. Linhardt feels himself melting just from that.

They shudder in each other’s hold, grasping at clothes, pulling as if to remove them, but failing because it’s simply  _ impossible _ to withdraw from what they’ve started. Caspar places kisses all over Linhardt’s slick lips, his jaw, the curve of his neck, his ragged breath lingering on his skin like fire. 

Linhardt cranes his head against the pillow, keeping his mouth parted to let himself breathe in. He’s especially keen when Caspar rolls his hips between his legs, and he instantly feels something thick and hard rubbing against his thigh. 

“ _ Oh.”  _ Linhardt’s teeth sink into his bottom lip. His response prompts Caspar to pull back only slightly to speak, and to  _ look at him _ .

“You can feel it, right?” Caspar utters with his half-lidded eyes locked onto the man under him. “Fuck, Lin, I’ve been waiting for this, I want you so badly...”

The words nearly put Linhardt’s mind into a haze, something he blinks through as his chest jumps with an excited gasp. He craves his lover just as much; and in response, he puts some strength into his lower half, grinding against Caspar in one delicious, heavy movement. 

Caspar breathes deeply as he matches Linhardt’s movements with a hand on his waist. The both of them rock their hips against each other, needy sounds leaving their lips as they grow harder against the confines of their trousers. Caspar snaps his eyes open to watch Linhardt’s slim hands easily undoing Caspar's belt without looking, then tugging down. 

“Fuck, you really want it too, huh?” Caspar whispers to him as he slides a finger under the string of his smalls, only to be stopped by Linhardt’s hand on his own. 

“Don’t remove it,” Linhardt says as he pushes a strand of hair away from his lips. “I told you I’d like to avoid making a mess of the sheets.”

“Seriously…?” Caspar asks, more confused than upset—Linhardt can’t help but look at the fabric stretching around Caspar’s cock, and his eyes follow the outline of it and the slightly wet spot darkening his smallclothes. 

“What should I do, then?” Caspar asks, his tone hopeful as he catches Linhardt’s attention again. Slowly, Linhardt sits back up, shifting his position so that he leaves some room for Caspar on the bed. 

“Lie down on your back,” he murmurs eagerly, “I thought of something fun I could do to you.”

Caspar is almost dumbstruck by this, and Linhardt knows he's about to make a comment about how he's not often the one to have his head on the pillow, but he thankfully keeps it to himself. Instead, he does as he's told. He lies on his back and follows Linhardt with his hazy eyes. 

And Linhardt is kneeling at his side this time, feeling his groin aching as well. But instead of touching himself, he brings a hand around Caspar's cock, squeezing it lightly through the clothing. 

The jump in Caspar's shoulders is delightful to watch. Linhardt smiles as he works his hand along him, breathing in sharply when Caspar rocks his hips upwards to chase the sensation. 

There's something about denying themselves skin-to-skin contact that Linhardt finds amazingly interesting, as frustrating as it may be. The warmth rises to his cheeks as well when some more precum leaks through the fabric, and he sucks air through his teeth. 

Caspar absentmindedly lifts up his turtleneck slightly to let the cool air wash over his abdomen at the very least. As Linhardt gently strokes him, he allows himself to stare at the beautiful work of art by his side; Caspar has a hand lightly covering his mouth, the other slithering down across his abs to hold at the string of his smalls, fighting the urge to pull it down. 

If there’s one thing Linhardt is terrible at, it’s self-restraint; it’s not what he was going to do originally when he sat up, but he can’t deny himself that satisfaction anymore. He suddenly bends down until his face is mere inches apart from Caspar’s abdomen, and he kisses him there, feeling the jolt of his body under his lips. 

Caspar makes a sound that starts off resembling a laugh—Linhardt knows how ticklish he is right there. But he’s also rubbing his hand up and down his cock, which causes the sound to become more of a shaky moan. 

Linhardt keeps kissing him in these sensitive places, lips ghosting over his hip bone, and the more time passes, the lower his head gets. His mind is swimming in a strange haze at this point, something he feels he’ll never get out of... not that he  _ wants  _ to. The pace of his hand has gotten much slower by now, but he doesn’t keep waiting for long; as Caspar’s fingers gently run through his lover’s hair, Linhardt’s lips part, and he mouths at his cock over the thin fabric. 

The surprised whine that spills from Caspar’s lips isn’t held back in the slightest, making Linhardt worry for a split second that they’ll easily be heard.  _ Only  _ for a split second, though. He may want to be careful about the sheets this time, but he’s not going to forbid Caspar or  _ himself  _ from making any noise—that would take out too much of the fun. 

For now, the only sound that leaves Linhardt is a fond laugh as he drags his lips down to the shaft, kissing him there again and again, feeling Caspar’s hips shuddering under him. Linhardt draws an impatient breath through his nose. There’s a spark in his mind that prompts him to place his hands flat against his lover’s much too restless hips, pinning them down against the bed so that he doesn’t move anymore.

“Ah, you’re killing me—” Caspar chokes, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his wrist as he throws his head back against the pillow. “Lin, stop teasing…”

“I’m not pressing that hard,” Linhardt utters as his fingers push gently against his skin. “With your strength, you could easily buck your hips despite my efforts. Why aren’t you doing it?”

A shine appears in Caspar’s eyes as he swallows sharply. “I— I don't know, I just…” He stutters, and soon, Linhardt’s hand is back on Caspar’s cock. His thumb plays with the tip for a moment, and feeling it throb into his palm makes him tremble. 

“Let’s make a deal,” Linhardt whispers after a long, pensive sigh. “I’ll give you more if you agree to rough me up a little.” 

Caspar’s brow knits, his elbows propping up the upper half of his body on the bed to look at Linhardt more easily. “Rough you up?” He repeats with a tinge of worry in his tone. “You mean...”

Linhardt’s hand leaves him, and he rests it on Caspar’s muscular thigh as he repositions it for his next idea. “You’re always so gentle with me when we do this—don’t get me wrong, I love it,” he explains with a smile that mirrors Caspar’s own. “But I’d really like you to be a little less kind every now and then.”

Caspar’s face is searing hot at this point. While Linhardt continues to speak, he turns so that his back faces Caspar, then straddles his thighs. “You know… grab my hips, push me around and use me… I’m pretty flexible, and you’re  _ strong,  _ there are many things you can do to me like this—”

“Whoa,  _ whoa, _ ” Caspar exclaims, not knowing what to do with his hands in this exact moment. “Okay, I— I can do that for you, Lin. I think. I dunno.” With hesitation written all over his countenance, he struggles to find his words. “I uh, haven’t really thought about treating you like this before…”

It’s good enough of an answer for Linhardt, for now at least. He can’t help but feel endeared by Caspar’s flustered response, and his heart flutters as he turns his head around to look at him. The next second, both of his hands are pressed on Caspar’s thighs for support. 

“It’s fine, Caspar,” Linhardt murmurs as his gaze sweeps across Caspar’s form under him. “Just grab my hips for now.” 

“O-Okay!” Caspar does exactly as he’s told, and Linhardt can feel him slowly sliding his hands across his hips, holding him… ever so gently, like he usually does. It  _ is  _ a nice feeling, but it seems like there’s a bit of training to be done if he wants to get what he’s asked for.

“Harder.” Linhardt rolls his hips slightly; his ass rubs right against Caspar’s lower-half, causing him to shudder in response. “Hold me tighter, will you? Keep me where you want me.”

“...Fuck,” Caspar chews on his bottom lip, and thankfully, his hesitation doesn’t last much longer. Soon, his fingers are pressing into Linhardt’s hips, and he puts much more strength into his hands. Linhardt can feel himself being held down, and only then does he truly begin to grind his ass against Caspar’s cock in a slow rhythm. 

“Just like this, Caspar,” Linhardt moans softly, “you’re doing amazing.”

“Am I?” Caspar asks, and while Linhardt isn’t facing him at the moment, he can  _ hear  _ the big grin on his face. “Ah, Lin, keep doing that…”

Linhardt swipes his hand across his forehead to push a few stray strands of hair out of the way. “You want me to keep grinding against you like this?” He asks, and he smiles, hoping that Caspar can hear it in his voice as well. “Why don't you make me?"

There's a quiet, desperate whine resonating in Caspar's throat, and Linhardt can't help but find it extremely satisfying. He stops moving for now, then looks back to meet Caspar's gaze. 

And after a few seconds of hesitation, Caspar does as he's told. He grips Linhardt's hips tighter, then pulls him back with enough force to have him do that delightful motion again. 

Surprised, Linhardt gasps slightly. He can feel Caspar's cock hard against his ass; the friction is almost maddening. He relaxes in Caspar's hold to let himself be pushed back and forth, feeling the slight rocking of his lover's hips in addition to all this. Linhardt trembles above him, and his lips part to let out a wanton moan. 

"Lin…" Caspar breathes erratically, and he's so incredibly  _ good  _ at this, so irresistible when he's finally giving in. Linhardt barely needs to move at this point. Caspar handles him perfectly, pushes and pulls like there's nothing in the world he wants more than this. "That feels… so good, Lin, I wanna fuck you so bad—" 

Heat flares in Linhardt's chest as he hears the words; he can't accept to do that now, but he'll take it as a promise that the next time they find each other alone, Caspar will absolutely ravish him.

"I promise, soon enough, I'll let you do whatever you want to me," Linhardt answers as he twists his hips ever so slightly. He meets Caspar’s pace and drags himself against his cock, over and over—it’s not the exact same feeling as being fucked, but it’s a fine substitute for now. In fact, it’s good enough that Linhardt’s head is spinning; his want grows so unbearable that he places his hands together on the bed to give himself more strength, then arches his back into another long, hard push backwards. 

A hoarse, surprised moan comes from the man under him; Caspar abruptly curls his fingers over Linhardt’s hips and causes his nails to dig into him a bit harshly. Linhardt is almost certain it was accidental, but he takes the sharp sensation with a thrilled hum nonetheless, lower-half swaying in a way that puts a delicious amount of friction between them. 

“You— You’re too good, Lin,  _ fuck _ ,” Caspar stutters and ends his attempt at a sentence with a bite at the inside of his lip. With a needy groan, he then grips at the fabric of Linhardt’s waistcoat, pulling more roughly than he would with his lover’s hips. Perhaps he still feels a little too timid for that, but it’s enough for Linhardt’s body to shudder as he lets himself be jerked back and forth. 

“Do  _ you  _ feel good, Lin?” Caspar asks out of concern, even if he’s having a hard time slowing down. Not that Linhardt minds  _ at all _ . 

“Yes, yes, Caspar please,” Linhardt whines, and he nearly surprises himself by how downright  _ filthy  _ he sounds right now. And he certainly can't be looking as assured and confident as he did just moments ago, judging by how hard he’s panting. 

Thank goodness Caspar seems to notice the way his movements slow down; the moment Linhardt's head sinks between his shoulders, Caspar shoves him onto the bed again, turns him over until Linhardt is face down onto the pillow and his hips raised up. He almost can't believe it. But he doesn't think he should dwell on it too much when Caspar settles behind him, then thrusts his hips against his ass again.

"Hn, Caspar—" Linhardt moans breathlessly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Oh Goddess…"

"You like that?" Caspar asks in between pants of effort, and his hoarse voice shakes him to the core. 

"Yes, Caspar,  _ yes, _ " Linhardt utters, hooking one of his arms under the pillow. He's so aroused by now that it’s almost painful; so he puts his free hand between his legs, rubbing himself over his pants. 

" _ Fuck,  _ Lin, you're fucking perfect like this," Caspar murmurs as he quickens his pace, and the rocking of his hips grows relentless. "You should've told me you were into this, we would've tried it way earlier…"

As cloudy as Linhardt's entire being is, he still manages a response. "Right back at you..." he says after a pleading whimper. His fingers dig into the pillow and he finds himself completely at Caspar's mercy, breathing however he can. Truth be told, he didn't know until this very moment that he would like the dry friction against his ass so much that he can't retain his sounds. 

"Lin, I'm so close," Caspar speaks up as he swallows sharply, then bends down and rests his hand on the headboard. 

And to this, Linhardt is arching his back, pushing himself against Caspar the best he can. It takes the other man by surprise, and he stifles a gasp. "Good boy, yes," Linhardt murmurs, "you're doing so well, pressing into me like this—Caspar, I  _ love  _ you…"

"Fuck, I, I—" 

Linhardt feels his lover shuddering above him, his grip growing intense, nearly painful—and delightfully so. Caspar groans through his teeth, and as he slowly steadies his breathing again, he bends down to kiss the nape of Linhardt's neck . 

As he’s being gently turned around so that he lies on his back, Linhardt’s eyes wander to the stained clothing covering Caspar’s cock; his release has dripped through, and the sight is one Linhardt didn’t know he would  _ love _ . 

"Hm… it felt good, didn't it?" Linhardt whispers as Caspar comes closer to press a few soft kisses on his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. 

"Y-Yeah…" Caspar rests his forehead against Linhardt's shoulder for a moment. "Really good, Lin, but…" he timidly slides his hand lower across Linhardt's body, then between his legs, which earns him a quiet gasp. "You haven't come yet, right?" 

Spreading his legs instinctively, Linhardt rolls his hips into Caspar's hand. "Would you help me with that?" 

And thank goodness Caspar doesn't make him wait too long. He's soon tugging at the buttons of his pants, undoing them with ease, then slithers his hand down to reach for his cock. 

"Caspar—" 

"I'm not gonna pull your pants down or anything, I know you don't wanna make things dirty," Caspar stutters into the crook of his neck, "I just really wanna touch you…"

Who is Linhardt to stop him? By talking to him this way, in such a desperate tone, Caspar makes his heart melt. He perhaps takes a little longer than intended to respond, because the other man’s gaze is growing pleading, almost desperate. 

"Is that okay?" Caspar asks to be sure, to which Linhardt lets out a small yet happy, endeared laugh. 

"Of course it is, Caspar," he murmurs, then caresses his lover's cheek. "Please… help me come."

He kisses him right after uttering the words, preventing Caspar from giving another of his flustered responses. When Linhardt feels his hand moving up and down, an excited breath escapes his lips. As he wraps one arm over Caspar’s shoulder, he can’t help but look down at the interesting motion of his hand under his pants. It’s slow, gentle, almost hypnotizing; and Linhardt is so riled up that this steady pace is enough to have him panting uncontrollably. 

“So good… you’re so good, Lin,” Caspar murmurs into his ear before kissing the spot on his jawline right under his earlobe—and Linhardt is  _ weak _ . He’s weak to this, to the little things that Caspar does to please him. All he can do now is throw his head back and gasp desperately, then rock his hips up into Caspar’s fist. “Lin, talk to me.” 

It’s a command he’s more than happy to follow. Because after all, it’s not often that Caspar  _ commands _ —it’s a precious occasion he’ll savor, something that makes him tremble and chew on his bottom lip. Caspar’s hungry gaze is focused on him, all of him, and Linhardt lets his fingers curl into the fabric of his turtleneck. 

“Caspar, I…” Linhardt’s every word is broken down by a breathy stutter. Whatever he was going to say was at least  _ slightly  _ elaborate, but he forgets all of it once Caspar nibbles at a spot in the crook of Linhardt’s neck. “Oh, Caspar, I can’t—please,  _ please,  _ give me more,  _ faster _ —”

And Caspar, so perfectly compliant, gives him more; he strokes him at a quicker pace, accelerating with every second until it’s relentless enough to have Linhardt moaning against Caspar’s lips the moment they’re about to kiss again. When they do, Linhardt feels overwhelmed, and the kiss is too messy to last very long. “I love you so much, Lin,” Caspar ends up whispering into Linhardt’s parted lips instead, and Linhardt feels like he’s  _ crashing. _

The unforgiving pace that Caspar sets is enough to have Linhardt’s entire body shudder, until he feels like he’s nothing but the wave of pleasure itself, spilling into Caspar’s hand and through the fabric of his smallclothes. The sensation makes his heart flutter desperately for a moment, and he’s ever so thankful that Caspar is stroking him through his climax, holding him to prevent him from drifting away. 

When Linhardt comes back to his senses, Caspar is kissing his cheeks, his forehead, the corners of his eyes. After slowly breathing in, a fond little laugh leaves him—and Caspar mirrors it with a wide grin before pressing his forehead against Linhardt’s own. 

“Hey, Lin…” he speaks up with a glint of worry in his eyes, although he tries to keep his smile. “Everything okay? I mean, I pushed you pretty hard onto the bed earlier, I hope it’s…” 

Linhardt doesn’t believe he needs to let him finish his sentence. Shaking his head, he relaxes on the bed. “You were amazing, Caspar,” he murmurs before pressing a playful kiss on the tip of his nose. “Everything is more than  _ okay _ .”

“Ah, I’m glad,” Caspar laughs again, soothed by Linhardt’s words and his gentle strokes against his back. “I really didn’t think I would be  _ so  _ into this, you know…”

Linhardt snuggles against him with a pleased hum, wrapping both of his arms around him and clinging heavily. “We’re on a journey of self-discovery after all,” he whispers tiredly, absentmindedly, before Caspar carefully runs his clean hand through his hair. 

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me,” he gently tickles at the back of his neck, which instantly causes Linhardt’s head to shake. "We should get cleaned up while you're still awake…"

With a sigh, Linhardt buries his face into the crook of Caspar’s neck. “Yes, you’re right,” he muffles against the clothing. “Take care of me… please?” 

It’s almost like he didn’t need to ask. With a soft smile, Caspar stands up to go get a wet cloth for each of them, and places a kiss on Linhardt's forehead when he returns. 

Linhardt feels almost numb by now, and every part of his body is aching to finally remove his clothes. 

Clothes that they’ll definitely need to be washed as soon as possible, too—but all in all, Linhardt doesn’t mind making that little bit of extra effort. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!!
> 
> feel free to follow me on twitter @beelzebumons


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